


Christmas at Tessera (50 Kinky Ways Prompt #29: Submissive)

by flinchflower, nubianamy



Series: Donutverse 50 Kinky Ways [10]
Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Biting, Discipline, Dom/sub, Donutverse, Flogging, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Spanking, Submission, Tess Riordan - Freeform, Tessera, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:44:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davis and Carl visit Tessera for Christmas, but Davis finds more than he bargained for.  Mirror story for Bending in the Archer's Hand chapter #32.  Part of the Donutverse 50 Kinky Ways, prompt #29: Submissive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas at Tessera (50 Kinky Ways Prompt #29: Submissive)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the mirror story for Bending in the Archer's Hand chapter #32, in which Davis and Carl travel down to Tessera for Christmas. Here you get Davis' point of view on the trip. Davis has been sorely in need of some love for a while, so we decided to give him some, or at least his own unique brand of pleasure.
> 
> In case you're behind in the Donutverse, Davis Lawton is Puck's lawyer, and Dr. Carl Howell's business partner in their BDSM consulting business.
> 
> Warnings include but are not limited to (ready?): Dom/sub, discipline, spanking, oral and anal sex, biting, whipping and flogging. I won't call it a PWP, because it does have rather a lot of plot, but it's full of graphic consensual sexual acts between two men. Also dancing and romance, but who knew?
> 
> You have been warned, right? Right. Now go forth and enjoy.
> 
> -amy and flinchflower

Cast of characters (click for pictures):

[Carl Jesse Howell](http://imstars.aufeminin.com/stars/fan/john-stamos/john-stamos-20061215-188637.jpg), 46, dentist, Dominant/Top, Davis's business partner and former lover.

[Davis Lawton](http://comicbookmovie.com/images/users/uploads/8558/CAPTAIN-AMERICA-JASON-LEWIS.jpg), 37, Puck's lawyer, submissive, Carl's business partner and former lover.

[James Robins](http://heroeswiki.com/images/b/b7/Scott_Workman.jpg), 40+, chef at Chanterelle in Club Tessera, Dominant/Top, Tess's friend and long time confidant.

Tess Riordan, 50+, owner of Club Tessera, Dominant/Top, Carl's mentor and former lover.

 

**Friday**

Tess wandered into the kitchen, warming herself by the cookstove, watching James bustle around the kitchen. He was with her a few moments later, having swiped a sheaf of papers off the shelf over his desk, and tromped over to her. She watched with a raised eyebrow, and accepted the papers silently.

"I don't want to hear about it," he grumbled. "I'm aware, we're taking care of it - the kid is sixteen next week. False papers, and all. Dammit."

Tess sighed. It happened occasionally, mostly with the restaurant, and the theatre, some of the dishwashers and runners in the theatre were awfully young. They didn't see anything untoward in the public part of Tessera, but overall, as an establishment that catered to a particular kind of clients, Tessera had to maintain higher standards than most.

"Talk to Jason," she said firmly, referring to the club's lawyer. She looked up at James, and stepped back so she didn't have to crane her neck so far. "And then get back with me."

"Sorry, Tess. What did you need?"

"One of my boys is coming by with his partner for Christmas," she said, looking thoughtful.

"Oh?"

"Jesse - well, he prefers Carl, now. His business partner, Davis, is apparently a legendary brat. It's been years since I've seen the man, though. I need some time to myself with Jesse." She appealed to him with her eyes. "Would you take Davis in hand for me? Jesse would worry less if he's pleasantly occupied. How is Sebastian doing? Will he perhaps be all right in the kitchen on his own?"

"I suppose so." His blue eyes grew contemplative for a moment. "He'll be fine, Lindsay's in as well. We've done all the planning, and  _that_  has gone decently. And I wouldn't mind a screaming brat over my knee. Sure."

"Thank you, dear." She stretched a small hand far up to pull him down closer, so she could kiss his cheek. "Work the employee issue out with Jason. Don't make me Top you."

That finally made him laugh, the smile lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling, and she shook her head and stepped briskly towards the club floor.

* * *

**Saturday**

"You don't think I'm underdressed?" Davis said, glancing down at himself in amusement. He'd taken off the expensively tailored suit from his morning in court, in which he looked every bit the part of the high-powered prosecuting attorney, and exchanged it for a sweater and khakis.

"Definitely," Carl said, handing his jacket to the girl in the coatroom with a wan smile. "Hi, Jenny. How're things tonight?"

"Hopping, Carl," she said, smiling back. She looked over Davis with barely disguised appreciation. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm Davis," he said, leaning over and holding out his hand for her to shake.

"I'm charmed," she replied, eyes alight.

"He's gay," Carl said in a stage whisper, and she sighed in disappointment. "Really, really gay."

"Doesn't stop me from being a gentleman," Davis protested, as Carl ushered him through the second set of doors into the club proper. Carl choked on a laugh.

"You, a gentleman? Give me a break. Come on, I need to see Tess."

A kind face greeted them in the hall, holding a walkie-talkie and smiling. "Carl! It's good to see you."

"Stephen," Carl said, clasping his hand. "So good to be back here. It's been too long." He introduced him to Davis as Tess' majordomo, and Stephen offered him a friendly handshake.

"Let me take you to Tess," Stephen said easily. The first strains of music came down the hallway. Davis had been to just about every high-end BDSM and leather bar in every major city of the United States, and many of cities in other countries, but he was glad he had an opportunity to gawk with appreciation at the interior of Tessera.  _This is incredible,_  he thought,  _and with Tess at the helm, no wonder._ The older woman had been responsible for introducing Carl to the scene all those years ago, back when he'd been his own Top. Even though Carl was more of a friend than a lover these days, he felt lucky to have that tie to her through him, because Tessera was something of a legend.

Stephen led the men up the short set of steps into the dance hall, where a wide ring of people were swaying to a pulsing beat. Davis looked at the couple on the dance floor, and caught his breath. The man was  _hot,_  and absolutely in line with Davis' type: tall - taller than Davis' own 6'1" - broad shouldered, and obviously well-muscled even through his black silk shirt. The tight black leather pants didn't leave anything to the imagination, and Davis' imagination was a fertile one.

When he managed to tear his eyes away from the man's tanned, smiling figure, he noticed he was leading a stunning woman in a flowing red dress through an absolutely  _sinful_  Argentine tango.

Her dress whirled, revealing long, muscled legs that she didn't hesitate to fling about her partner at the appropriate turns and cues - their movements were sharp and coordinated, and he handled her as if she were no lighter than a feather. The man's rugged face always had a hint of a smile about it, even if it was stern, and hers was a mask of passion, intense and smoldering - and the faint hint of recognition finally came clear - that was Tess herself on the dance floor.  _Amazing._

"Wow," he said quietly to Carl, who simply smiled back in return. They stood watching the rest of the number, and then listening to the applause. Tess' eyes lit on them, and a smile finally broke through her serious demeanor. She spoke quietly to her partner, and he nodded, taking her arm gently, and leading her over.

"Jesse! It's so good to see you, sweetheart," she said, clearly delighted, and her hot partner very gently transferred her hand to Carl's, who brought her fingers to his lips for a kiss.

"Yes, it is," Carl replied, and put a hand on Davis' back, drawing him forward. "You remember Davis, Tess."

"I'm pleased see you again, Davis," she said gravely.

"Mistress Tess," he said, bowing over her hand. "You don't look a day older than the last time I saw you - what was it, eleven years ago?" He gave her a sincere smile before turning his eyes toward Tall, Broad and Gorgeous beside her, letting them rest a little overly long on his muscled shoulders.

"Thank you," she replied, inclining her head gracefully. "Please let me introduce James Robins - James is the head chef for Chanterelle, our in-house restaurant."

"Is that right?" Davis murmured, offering his hand. "Head chef. Marvelous." He let his eyes twinkle at the big man, feeling his strong grasp with appreciation. "I do love to... eat."  _Let's see what I can find out about him,_  he thought. "You know, I've been told that cooking food and presenting it beautifully is one of the most sincere acts of servitude."

The chef's blue eyes flashed a bit of steel, and Davis thought he loomed a little larger.

"Rosalind Coward," came the deep voice. "I consider fine food to be a privilege, myself."

"A privilege, indeed," Davis acknowledged, inclining his head. "I dare say, I think hard before I put anything in my mouth."

"If... thinking... were to be allowed," James said, nodding towards Carl.

Carl looked like he was trying to swallow a smile, but he managed to restrain himself. "Davis has full autonomy here," he said. Then he added, under his breath, but loud enough for all present company to hear, "He's fully capable of messing up on his own, believe me."

"Perhaps he would benefit from a tour... and a review of the club rules," James suggested, glancing now at Tess.

"Would you, James? I should like some time with Jesse, dear."

"I'd be delighted, Tess," came the deep rumbling answer. It made Davis' heart quiver a little, the sound resonating in his own chest.

"Perhaps a dance, before we begin the tour?" he offered, glancing up at James, not bothering to hide his interest.

That earned him a smile from the taller man. "Of course - do you waltz?" James asked.

Davis smiled, holding out one hand. "Three years of ballroom dance classes in prep school would say yes," he said, "but I'll leave it to you to decide."

The song shifted to something slow, and Davis wondered if it was routine, or if some subby DJ was paying close attention to the Tops in the room. James gently took the hand he'd offered, with a very slight bow, and led the way on to the dance floor.

Davis glanced surreptitiously back at Carl as he followed James' lead, and they shared a frantic silent exchange of looks: Davis' said  _Oh, my god, he's so fucking hot, can you believe this?_ and Carl's said  _Go for it, man, you've been single for way too long._

Davis felt the man's strong hand at his back, even as the hand that James held was brought up into what he dimly remembered as a perfect frame, and he responded to the strong pressure, standing up a little straighter and firming his grip on the callused palm. James smiled down at him, and Davis felt his heart trip a little in anticipation, though his feet were steady, following the taller man's lead into the simple but elegant steps.

A few measures in, and Davis felt James pull him in tighter, and the hand on his waist left momentarily. Davis felt a moment of confusion, until he felt those strong fingers under his chin, tipping his head up slightly. He met his blue eyes with some of that confusion, and wilted under another one of those kind smiles.

James' voice rumbled, carrying clearly under the sound of the music. "I believe I mentioned the rules, Davis."

Davis swallowed, with difficulty, and offered his own smile in return, but he was unable to concentrate on anything besides James' gaze, holding him in thrall. "I'm listening," he said.

"Entrances are clearly marked. Those marked staff or private remain so for those people. From this wing of the club, the entrance to the public part of the building is also clearly marked. It's expected that all behaviour conform to a public standard, beyond that door. The general public uses the conference facilities, the theatre, and the restaurant on a regular basis, and it's very important for the club to maintain that positive relationship with the public. Here on the club side, standard club rules apply here in the dance hall, and also across in the demonstration hall. The tour doesn't end there, however."

"All right," Davis nodded, feeling James' mass pull him around each turn, as though he weighed nothing. It wasn't an experience he was accustomed to - being rather on the bulky side himself, due in no small part to long hours at the gym - but he was loving every moment of it. He felt a little dizzy, and more than a little turned on. "Where would we go next?'

"The ground floor, and then the third floor. Both will look much like a standard hotel hallway, but we do like guests to be familiar. Those rooms are set aside for overnight guests during the club's working week, they are closed for two nights of the week, on the day that Tessera hosts private events, and on the day that we're closed. Staff might occasionally stay over in bad weather, if there's room. Now then. Have I your complete attention?"

Davis felt the pleasant haze he'd fallen into drop away at James' words, and he found himself stuttering a little, nearly tripping as his focus sharpened - but James' strong arms were there to catch him, and they continued the dance smoothly, as though nothing had happened. But something  _had,_  Davis knew, and he knew James knew it, too. He nodded silently.

"The second floor, Davis. I'll take you through the tour myself. There are twelve... rooms, up there. You should know that any club member or visitor you see on that floor has been personally vetted by Mistress Tess. As a guest of Carl's, she will dictate whether or not you return to the floor, but again, as a guest of Carl's, you should be aware of the facilities."

"I've heard a little about them," Davis said, nodding again. "One of my clients is a friend of Tess', and he was just down to Tessera a few weeks ago with his lovers. And, of course, Carl's been coming down for years."

James smiled down at Davis again, his blue eyes searching. "The rules on that floor are different. Subs are required to be accompanied, at all times, by a Top. If there's an open box present, staff will escort him, if there are Tops present who are willing to coach, or play." His gaze sharpened sternly. "These rooms are private, Davis. You are not to interfere with anything you might see, even if you find it disturbing - if there is something, you will let Carl or your escort know, and Security is always present, no less than two at any time. By invitation only, you might say, far more strict than the demonstration hall will be."

"I understand," Davis said, with a faint smile at the idea of finding anything at a place like this  _disturbing._  Since his initiation into the scene in college - thanks to Carl - he'd been  _very_  clear with himself, and all his lovers since, exactly what he desired from a power exchange relationship. His professional discipline relationships notwithstanding, he had a certain level of expectation in regards to the experience of submitting to others, and he'd had those expectations met at private clubs similar to this one all over the world. There wasn't much he  _hadn't_ seen.

But there was something about this man, even beyond his striking presence and clear expertise on the dance floor, that compelled Davis, made him yearn to move into his personal space, to experience him more thoroughly than he would be able to do so in a public setting such as this. He hoped he would get the opportunity.

"I'll touch on other important details as we walk through." He bowed slightly to Davis. "Shall we?" The music trailed off, and segued into something a little faster as Davis took James' hand and followed him off the dance floor. "We'll go down to the ground floor first. This way - the main stairs for the club wing are in the center of the building. There's another stairwell midway through the public wing." James nodded to the security officer outside the stairwell, and opened the door, ushering Davis through with a gentle hand on his back.

"Questions are welcome," James added, and Davis could hear the suggestion in the tone of that deep, velvety voice.

"Boxers or briefs?" Davis quipped, looking back over his shoulder with a cheeky grin.

It earned him a raised eyebrow from the taller man, who opened the door from the stairs into the ground floor hallway - and also a pair of heavy pats on his backside. Davis felt each touch on his skin, radiating out to cover his back with tingling reaction, and he let out a nervous chuckle. He glanced up at James, pausing in his passage, and was arrested by his ice-blue eyes. They weren't at all unkind, but there was something behind them that promised more, and it made him shiver.

"The ground floor," James said quietly. "There are twenty rooms on this floor. The facilities are community, though there's a private bath for any who need something a little quieter. You'll also find a small kitchenette here, and laundry facilities as well."

"Is this where we'll likely be staying?" Davis asked, glancing down the hallway.

James appeared to contemplate for a moment. "Actually, I'm not sure. Carl's quite close to Tess, it's possible that you might be in guest quarters in the private wing."

"Oh, I somehow doubt Carl will be staying with me tonight," he said, grinning. "He's got business with Tess. I suspect I'll be finding someone's floor to crash on."

That earned him another one of those powerfully arched eyebrows. "All the same, it's a question for Tess - and for Carl, Davis. This way." He led the way into the stairwell again.

Davis smiled fondly at the idea of Carl being in charge of him. It was a part of their history - back in college, they'd been in a threesome with Bebe, and then after, the two of them had been exclusive for a while. They'd even considered a permanent partnership, but eventually it had become clear they were much better as friends and business partners than as lovers. Even so, Carl was - helpful - when necessity demanded it.  _He's damn talented with that single-tail whip,_  Davis thought, remembering a recent session.  _I wonder if the marks are still there?_

Davis felt the other man scrutinizing him as they climbed the stairs, flight after flight. Davis was healthy and toned; he was barely winded by the time they reached the top floor, but he decided it was time to rid himself of his sweater. He drew it over his head as they walked, revealing a short-sleeved button-down, and multiple layers of long-healed cuff marks on his wrists.

"You seem fairly fit," James suggested. "You'll see here, the same set of twenty rooms, facilities, kitchen. The rooms up here aren't used quite as often, and you might find staff staying over here."

"Good to know," Davis nodded. "As for being fit, my professional life keeps me pretty stationary, so I try to stay as active as I can manage. I used to dance, back in college, on the stage. These days it's mostly racquetball and climbing."

"Dancing, hmmm?" The eyebrow was questioning this time. "I climb, myself - there are a few good scrambles around here."

"That's one thing I miss about living out west," Davis smiled. "Midwest Ohio is pretty flat and featureless - most of my climbing is indoors, anymore."

"I don't like the walls as well as a proper cliff. All right. Second floor. Mind yourself," came the warning. "Slip up and I won't be patting, this time."

"Understood," Davis responded in a murmur, but inside he felt an uncharacteristically intense rush of desire at his comment. He had to force himself to concentrate on their passage through the hallway, instead of on James' perfect ass in his leather pants.

"All right," James said, turning to the right. "This first room - the subs call it the Harry Potter room." Davis laughed, surprised, and James responded with a wry grin. "It's not staged, but it can be upon request.

"Next to it," he continued softly, "a room for the Bears to play in. The end of this little hall, we have a military room, and a room that's used for shibari and suspension - the rigging in there is complicated." He led the way back where they'd come. "This next room is used for ageplay." The strains of a soft lullabye drifted out of that open door.

Davis peered curiously at the open doors, hesitating. "Are they open for observation?" he asked. "There's nothing in particular I'm interested in, here, but I wouldn't want to be inappropriate."  _Much._

"Yes. If the doors are open, observation is welcome. It's very rare for doors to be closed - usually only when Tess, or another senior Top, is present. Here we have a medical play room - it does double as a clinic if there are injuries. Every member of security is a trained first responder, and a few of them hold EMT credentials - and then there's Tess, of course."

"Handy, that," said Davis with a smile. He knew Tess' background as a military nurse; it was her influence that had led Carl to choose medicine as a second career after his service in the military was over. "I imagine I'd feel very safe doing some pretty intense play here, with all that medical support."

James nodded. "It's considered one of the specialties. This next room - you might call it a room devoted to altering one's appearance. Piercing, usually. And, tattooing, branding, other permanent alterations - although those do not take place without Tess herself present."

"Good to know," he said, pausing with a hand on the door frame. "May I -?" He indicated the open door.

"Please do," James replied calmly.

Davis edged past James' bulk into the room, allowing himself to brush deliciously against his chest as he did so, watching the bigger man's response. A faint smile crept over James' face before the Top directed an assessing gaze into the room. Davis glanced appreciatively around, noting the sterile equipment and big stone fireplace on one end, complete with branding irons. He picked one up by the handle, examining the Tessera insignia in cold metal on the end with approval.  _I wouldn't mind adding that one to my collection._

James indicated another door. "A small lounge - friends often meet here to talk quietly, or wait for another couple who might still be in play. The room behind it is for sensory play - ice, feathers, you name it, it's in there. Next we have an old fashioned school room." He quirked a smile. "And the placement is perhaps mildly awkward, but the room across here - restraints, cages, chains."

"Ah," Davis said, unable to disguise his interest in the mention of  _chains._  Indeed, he thought his  _interest_  was probably pretty obvious by now. His pants were becoming inordinately tight, and he wished he'd chosen to change into his usual club outfit of tank top and jeans before getting on the plane.

James laid a friendly hand on his shoulder as Davis turned away, walking them down to the last two doors on the hallway. "To your left," came the deep voice, quieter than it had been, "a room devoted to oral sex."

Davis was unable to keep from eying the crotch of James' leather pants, wearing a smile that was probably entirely too hopeful. "Sounds wonderful," he said, his voice coming out low and hoarse, and glanced briefly at James before casting his gaze to the floor.

James' hand tightened on the younger man's shoulder, bodily turning him away from the doorway, and directed him into the door across the hall. This time James didn't pause in the doorway, but walked Davis straight inside, into a room that was empty of other patrons. Davis glanced around, seeing ottomans, straight backed chairs. The walls were hung with - he swallowed. Those were macro photographs of varying spanking implements. He had no doubt as to what the discreet cabinets placed about the room contained.

Davis' hand reached up to touch the close-up photograph of the handle of a single-tail bullwhip. "We have several prints by this artist in our office," he said, with a smile. "Beautiful work. I love the subtlety."

James nodded. "The photographer is the only one I've encountered so far who's been able to show the detailing in my wraps," he said mildly. Davis broke into a wide smile as he realized the meaning behind James' words.

"You - those are  _your_  tools?" he said. "I'm impressed. I would consider myself to be a connoisseur of single-tails, and I have plenty of experience in both using and... being used by them."

That got another one of those damned eyebrows. "And your preference?"

"That would depend on my present company," he said, tilting his head. "I occasionally wield the whip in demonstrations, but Carl's the real expert there." He flushed, smiling. "I'm also happy to be demonstrated upon."

James rested a heavy hand on Davis' shoulder, exchanging a long look. And then the big hand slid down, to grip Davis' bicep. "Are you asking?" he said quietly.

"Oh, yes." Davis responded, leaning into the touch, letting his eyelids fall closed. "God... yes."

He felt James' hand slide along his back, cupping the back of his neck firmly, and then James moved bodily forward, leaving Davis no choice but to go where the bigger man directed. He felt his heart pound more quickly as James guided him toward one of the larger cabinets in the room, then reached up and opened it, displaying a wide array of leather implements.

"Then choose."

The possibilities opened up before him, dizzying in their wide array. He reached a slow hand forward to touch the tools, one at a time, stiff and supple, ornate and plain, black and white and all manner of shades in between. "Beautiful," he murmured, and cast a glance back at James before returning to the cabinet. "The tools are pretty, too."

"Sauce before a spanking?"

Davis chuckled, low and throaty, and laid his hand on the heaviest flogger, hanging by its red leather handle from the back of the cabinet. There were a good deal more than nine tails on this particular tool, but they were thick and not particularly forgiving. He had a pretty good idea of what those tails would feel like on his back, and he shivered in anticipation. "Yes, please."

"Yes, please  _what?"_ James demanded, emphasis on the last word.

He flinched into the implication, and with a shuddering sigh, replied, "Yes, please,  _sir."_

James held out an expectant hand, and Davis placed the handle of the flogger precisely against the webbing of his thumb. Even that brief contact made Davis' breath come faster, and he stroked James' knuckles lightly with the pads of his fingers.

"Come here." Davis moved on the command, unable to look away from those luminous blue eyes. James tucked the red leather into his back pocket, and reached, big hands resting on the top button of Davis' shirt. "May I?" he asked formally, and at Davis' silent nod, undid the first button.

The closeness of James' face, his steady regard, his deep voice, all were affecting Davis in familiar ways - and yet this felt somehow  _different_  from other experiences he'd had.  _Carl's right,_ he thought ruefully.  _I must really need it._

"Thank you, sir," he whispered.

The rest of the buttons went, agonizingly slowly, and James pushed the shirt from Davis' shoulder, letting the fine fabric fall. And then those big hands landed, warm and enveloping, over Davis' hips. He felt himself turned, slowly, and once his back was to James, the bigger man pulled him against his body. He could feel James' arousal, hot and hard and maddeningly close, and his own cock was practically in agony. James ran a deliberate hand down Davis' chest, resting at the button of his pants.

"Please," Davis breathed.

James stepped back, and swatted, two resounding cracks bouncing off of the walls loudly. "Please  _what_."

He moaned, his hips bucking of their own accord, seeking that contact again, the impact of his hand. "Please...  _sir."_

"Good," James murmured, drawing Davis close again, the heat of James body radiating through him. Those huge hands came down again to undo the button, and slip the zipper down slowly, notch by notch.

They were standing before a wide, square ottoman. "Pull them down, and step out. Ah-" came the cautionary noise as he began to slide the khakis off. "Shorts too."

Once Davis was free of the fabric James pulled him close again, and Davis could feel the insistent throbbing of James' cock against his ass, even through the leather. He moaned again, rubbing back against that pressure, wanting it, wanting even more to please this impressive, gorgeous man.

James stepped him forward, and his hands swept down Davis' arms to his hands, lacing his fingers through Davis'. And then James bent forward, drawing Davis' palms to rest on the surface of the ottoman, effectively doubling him in half.

"Stance," came the next command. "You know what to do."

Davis responded immediately, positioning himself with the precision of long experience, feet placed exactly so, hips thrust up and waiting for what he knew was coming next - and  _god,_  he wanted it, as much as he could ever remember wanting anything, since he'd awakened to his own desires. This man was offering exactly what he needed, and for that, he couldn't feel anything but excruciating gratitude. "Sir," he said tremulously.

"Good boy," came the first praise. A tremendous cracking noise filled the room, then silence after. And then the burn began. The older man hadn't held back, and Davis gasped and writhed with pleasure. The blows fell, one after one, each one spaced no more than a hairbreadth from where the previous had fallen.

The surface of his ass wasn't entirely covered, and he was surprised to hear James pause. Fingers trailed across a spot on the undercurve of his butt cheek, one that rasped in the right way to let Davis know that one of the marks from the singletail the other day was still inflamed - probably from sitting on it so much in court. He heard the creak of leather behind him, but didn't move from his position, wanting with desperate pleasure to find out what happened next, not willing to break this man's rhythm.

He felt another warm brush across the mark, and then the heat of -  _oh my god -_ James' breath on his skin... and then he felt the slow, warm wetness of the man's tongue, caressing into the mark, laving across the damaged flesh. Another creak, and he cried out as the flogger came down again three times - almost too rapidly to distinguish between the blows. Davis felt each impact along his back, and an echoing response in his cock, heavy and aching for some kind of friction, but denied contact by his position. He leaned forward just a little, arching his back against the burning sensation, and the rigidity of his cock.

"What's this, boy?" James asked. "What happened to that position, hmm?" Davis checked himself, beginning to adjust his stance automatically. "Oh no, Davis. I'd say a mistake like that doesn't warrant a return to the previous activity." And before Davis could so much as take a breath to argue or plead, James took a seat on the ottoman and slung Davis effortlessly across his knees.

"Oh -  _fuck_ , sir," he gasped, held fast by James' strong arm, feeling unaccountably small and helpless on the bigger man's lap. It wasn't a position to which he was accustomed, and the pressure of James' leg against his cock nearly undid him, but he was so tightly bound that he couldn't even thrust his hips. He let himself dangle, the vertebrae of his neck rotating loosely as he relaxed into the half-embrace of James' body against his. It was the sweetest feeling in the world.

James' warm hand ran down his back and caressed the marks left by the flogger on the soft skin. And then his palm lifted, and began a series of sharp smacks on Davis' butt. The smacks were hard, jolting him forward with each swat, and stung and burned. He lost count rapidly, so quickly was James spanking him, until he cried out, the intensity of the sensation causing him to struggle in the older man's grip.

"Please, sir," he begged, "I'm close - please, let me -"

James stood both of them up abruptly, yanking Davis back against him, Davis crying out as his tender ass ground into the leather of James' pants. And then James' hand closed gently around Davis' cock.

"Is this what you want?"

"God,  _yes,"_ he whimpered, thrusting into James' light grasp, seeking greater friction. "I like it hard and fast - please, give it to me -"

James chuckled, his low voice reverberating against Davis' chest. "I want to hear you  _beg_ , boy."

Davis struggled against James' iron grip, rubbing back against him, reveling in the additional sensation of his bruised and aching backside against James' hard body. "Please, sir," he chanted, "please, please, I want to come,  _please,_ god..."

The arm around his middle tightened, and then there was a sudden exquisite pressure around his cock. James' callused hand stripped up and down the hard length, his practiced thumb rubbing against the underside of the head with precise rhythm. It was tight, and it was fast, and  _exactly_  what he wanted -

"Come," James ordered.  _"Now."_

With barely a second's response time, Davis felt the orgasm ripped from his body, and he gasped at the reaction and change in pressure. It dropped him bonelessly back into James' embrace, his legs entirely useless. James held him up under his arms, and he felt himself cradled, supported in a way he'd seldom felt before - a way he hadn't even realized he wanted.

Davis heard the air in his own lungs, slowing and evening out, and listened to the echoing rhythm of James' breathing. He turned his head to one side, feeling the firm pressure of James' chest under his cheek, and listened to the slow, steady beat of his heart. "Thank you, sir," he murmured, feeling unaccountably moved. "That was - exactly what I needed."

James ran a hand down Davis' chest. "We'll check with Tess and Carl. But you won't be sleeping on anyone's floor but mine tonight, boy, if that's what you want." The man's voice was soft, and tender.

A bright flash of gratitude recalled Davis' earlier feeling of appreciation for what James had given him. "Yes, please, sir," he said quickly, smiling against his warm body. "That sounds - just right."

James smiled back. "In the next cupboard over, you'll find clean rags, and a spray bottle of bleach solution. You know what to do." As Davis turned towards the indicated cabinet, which also held a basket full of obviously used rags, he watched as James picked up the clothing, earlier discarded on the floor (aside from the jacket, which was neatly laid across the back of a chair). James laid the rest of the clothing out as well, and then beckoned to Davis, once the floor was clean.

"Stand right here. There you go, boy." And with that, James carefully restored Davis' clothing, piece by piece, fastening the buttons just as slowly as he'd unfastened them earlier. Davis reveled in the intimacy of this gesture as James leaned in to straighten his collar, stroking his face with a gentle hand.

James stood back for a moment and surveyed his work. "Good boy," he murmured. Then he held out a hand, waiting until Davis took it. "Come along with me."

There had been plenty to look at on the way upstairs, but somehow Davis barely registered the presence of other guests as they made the return trip. His hand was securely in James', and he found his attention entirely captured by James' steady, stern presence. It had been a long time since he'd felt quite this absorbed by another person. It was heady, much as the spanking had been, and he let himself revel in the sensation.

James paused at the security station in the stairwell, and spoke quietly to the guard, waiting for the answer. He nodded, and thanked the young man.

"This way," he said quietly to Davis, leading down the short hallway back to the Grand Hall, and through a door that Davis hadn't noticed when he and Carl came in earlier. Once inside, there was a second door, glass with wrought iron chasing over it, and it was this that James opened courteously for Davis.

Davis found himself on a set of curving stone steps, on a glassed in terrace, one that was hung with exotic plants, and small, intimate gas lights against the solid brick of the building. The roof was high - almost two stories, and the air smelled of night-blooming jasmine. The brickwork of the floor was laid in intricate pattern that swirled and sparkled on the floor, and there were fountains placed outside of what looked like private alcoves. It was beautiful, and the shadows made the refined planes of James' cheekbones leap out in stark, gorgeous relief. They weren't walking very fast, as if James was giving him time to take everything in.

"I've never seen anything quite like it," Davis said, gazing around him as they walked. His voice was muted, as the surroundings seemed to warrant.

"This is all Tess," James murmured fondly. "She had quite a vision, and a lot of work and care went into making it happen for her. The terrace isn't often open to the public."

Davis smiled up at James. "Are you telling me we're alone here?"

"No," James said mildly. "But it's early in the night for many of the private club members to be here. The alcoves are fairly secluded, though, so don't worry about your eyes wandering. Tess will be down at the other end of the terrace with Je- with Carl."

Davis knew Tess' history with Carl gave her the right to use his middle name, familiarly, as no one else was allowed to do anymore. When Davis had met him in college, he'd already reclaimed his first name - "Once my father died, it stopped being anathema," he'd said - and discarded the persona of Lieutenant Jesse. He'd told Davis once that it was part of becoming a Top. "But with Tess, I'm really not, anyway," he'd said.

Tess looked up as they approached, and a slow smile - one that was almost more a smirk crossed her face. Carl watched the expression warily, and his flushed face and hunched shoulders told Davis that they'd probably been discussing the situation with Finn.  _Carl had been right when he'd said Tess wasn't going to like it,_  he thought sympathetically.

"James, Davis. Did you enjoy the tour?" she asked sweetly.

"It's been... incredible," Davis said, breathless from more than the walk, and smiled at her.

"I understand from Jesse that you've been in many of the major clubs across the country," she inquired.

He nodded. "I travel a lot for work, and it's been a personal goal of mine to visit a club in every state. Yours makes thirty-three."

Tess' eyebrows both arched in some surprise. "I should enjoy discussing that with you then, perhaps tomorrow? Do we... measure up?" she asked, voice silky, and her eyes glancing up and down James' form suggestively.

"In every way," he affirmed, joining her in her glance at James, a delighted laugh escaping his lips. James seemed to bear this teasing with stoic good humor.

A uniformed young man stepped up, and quietly claimed James' attention, drawing him to the side.

"Please, Davis, have a seat. I'm sure James will only be a moment." She rose, and went to a sideboard he hadn't notice, pouring two more glasses of wine and setting them down on the table. Once she'd seated herself again, she reached around and, with a sharp yank, drew Carl's chair closer to hers, motioning to two chairs that were just behind Davis, when he glanced behind himself. Davis sat backwards in the chair, leaning on the patterned back.

Tess raised an eyebrow. "Properly, perhaps."

"Ma'am," he said, immediately switching the chair around and reseating himself, sitting a little straighter than he had a moment ago. He grinned at Carl, and Carl regarded him with amusement.

"That was quick," he muttered.

Davis watched with curiosity as he flinched, then realized one of Tess' hands was beneath the table.  _Interesting._  He could hear the relaxed rumble of James' voice just over his shoulder, recognizing the stern orders that James was effortlessly listing off, though he couldn't make out the words.

James' eyes met his, and Davis blinked as they appeared to soften, and James laid a hand on his shoulder.

"My apologies, Davis. Some responsibilities are unavoidable. Chanterelle will be closing very shortly, and we shouldn't be disturbed again." The man's eyes seemed to glance at the untouched glass in front of Davis, and he lifted the glass - a heavy serviceable sort of wineglass, but in the man's big hands, it looked like the most delicate of crystal - handing it to Davis.

He took the glass and raised it slightly, admiring the dark red liquid within. "I wouldn't want to distract  _you_  from your duties," Davis said, but he was warmed by James' expression of desire for time alone together.

"It's good for my supervisors to take on more responsibility. I'm fortunate to have a very talented sous chef at the moment, one who is interested in learning anything he can get his hands on. I'll lose him one of these days, but it makes it easy to take an evening for myself, if something comes up." His eyes traveled up and down Davis' relaxed body.

"Something might very well," Davis agreed, smiling. He set the wine glass on the tabletop and held the stem firmly in two fingers, swirling the liquid and watching the patterns it made on the bowl of the glass. He raised the glass to his face and breathed in the scent. "Mmmm. Nice bouquet. Which Rhone varietal is this?"

A pleased expression crept across James' face, and a glance at Tess showed that the dominatrix was smiling softly at Davis.

"A GSM, sweetheart. d'Arenberg Vale, from Australia. Did you have any questions about the club?"

A few moments later, another one of the uniformed boys slipped up to the table, serving tray expertly balanced, dropping down a selection of serving platters on the table, and quietly setting small appetizer plates before each of them, along with wrapped silverware, all without setting the serving tray down, or interfering with anyone's field of vision.

"James, you terrible sneak," Tess exclaimed, and Davis watched the tall man smile gently at the dominatrix.

"The night is young," James suggested. "And Lindsay was experimenting with my recipe file, and an odd shipment of mushrooms earlier, so you'll speak up if anything isn't to taste, hmm?" He reached out and served himself, and then Davis, leaving Tess' choices - and the choices that Davis was wondering if she'd make for Carl - to her.

Davis reached out one curious finger and trailed it through the sauce on his plate, then settled the finger between his lips. "Delicious," he proclaimed.

James shook his head, reaching over to disentangle the fine linen napkin from the silverware, draping the cloth about Davis' lap, setting the silverware down carefully in the proper places. His blue eyes bored into Davis' twinkling ones. And then he gently raised Davis' hand, and sharply slapped the backs of his fingers.

"Behave. There's a lady present."

"Forgive me," Davis murmured to Tess, inclining his head, and picked up his fork, his devilish smile not one whit diminished by the slap.

Tess shook her head, and if Davis wasn't mistaken, she shot a narrow eyed glare at Carl, as if Davis' misbehaviour were somehow Carl's fault. Carl's eyes widened, and he opened his hands in an  _it wasn't me_  gesture.

Tess simply served both of them, and tapped the side of Carl's plate meaningfully. Davis was a little awed: if they'd been in a larger room, or with more people present, it would be likely that the quick, dominating tap would have gone unnoticed. As it was, Carl picked up his own silverware and cut into the mushroom quiche with clear pleasure.

"Oh my," Tess said. "Sweet Forest Nameko mushroom custard tarts! I've had these before - would you believe from a sixteen year old's hands? Puck does enjoys cooking for his lovers - they're both seventeen, James - Davis knows them, as does  _Jesse,"_ Tess said with wicked emphasis.

Davis restrained himself from starting. Yes, that's definitely why Carl had looked upset - they couldn't have been discussing anything else. He glanced at James, who had an eyebrow raised curiously at Tess.

"Well then," James rumbled. "How do they compare? Lindsay could use the criticism."

Tess gave him a wry look. "Well, these are a little sharper? Perhaps I should have  _you_  make some, James," she suggested, a wicked twinkle to her eyes.

"You know... Puck?" Davis said hesitantly, glancing at Carl, who was red-faced and scowling.

"Yes," she said gently. "My partner's boys met Puck and his family a few months ago, and as the boys were just discovering their relationship, my - I suppose you might call them stepsons, for ease of conversation, thought they might benefit from some advice. As it turns out, my partner and Mr. Hummel - Kurt's father," she added for James' benefit. "seem to get along very well, so I've kept in touch with the boys. Although, apparently not as well as I should."

_There was steel in that last sentence,_ Davis thought, wincing on Carl's behalf.

James smiled, apparently ignoring Carl's reaction. "I'll look forward to seeing Puck again, and meeting his partners someday. Tess, I should like to ask what your expectations for the rest of the evening are, I wasn't able to answer Davis, when he asked where he and Carl might be quartered?"

"I thought perhaps guest quarters, in my wing, James. Though I'll be keeping Jesse with me tonight." Carl's deep sigh of surrender indicated he'd expected this.

"I'd be happy to show Davis to the Ranier Room on the second floor," James said quietly.

"That sounds lovely, James. The two of you cut quite a lovely figure on the dance floor earlier, will you perhaps dance? And the demo hall should have some fun started by this point." They had all sat back a little from the table, the appetizer platter nicely diminished.

"I'll need to check in with the kitchen, if Davis doesn't mind accompanying me, and we'll see," came the calm and steady reply, as James set his empty wine glass down on the table.

"I'll follow you anywhere," Davis said softly, gazing up at James.

James rose, and held his hand out for the younger man to balance against as he rose. Davis didn't miss the significant glance between James and Tess, nor the sharp nod that Tess gave the taller man. "Thank you for the dinner company," he added to Tess as they departed.

James smiled down at Davis, as they traveled - again slowly - through the beautiful terrace. "What shall it be? Tess is right, there's dancing, and the demo hall will certainly be well populated by now."

Davis glanced down at James' hand in his. "I can't help but feel a little - well, regretful - that your pleasure hasn't yet exceeded mine," he said. "Is there anything I can do about that?"

That earned Davis a wickedly low chuckle. "Come this way with me," the man said firmly, and to Davis' surprise drew him through the door that was broadly marked with  _Public._  "There are conference rooms here - a bar - which is  _not_  open to the club members, for the most part, unless they are being served soft drinks and juices. The main dining room - and through here, a private dining room. And the kitchen." He led Davis to a small table, and seated him gently. "Wait here for me, while I check in with my staff, please." James reached behind himself, filling a glass of water in the tiny bar sink behind the table, and setting it before Davis. His hand lingered, squeezing the man's shoulder.

Davis found it a pleasure to be in James' element, watching him interact with his staff. He clearly took his responsibility to the restaurant, and the club, seriously. James lingered the longest with a young woman who watched him with wide eyes, nodding earnestly in response to the man's quiet words. Finally, he spoke with an attractive young man who was seated at a big wooden desk in the corner, and Davis was amused, watching the startled jump the man made when James laid a hand on his shoulder. The youth smiled a few moments later, and then James was walking back towards Davis, a warm and very intent look in his blue eyes.

"If it is your pleasure to dance, or to walk the demonstration hall with me, you will tell me so, and that is where we will go," he said firmly. "Otherwise... you will stand up and come with me, immediately."

Davis caught his breath at the command, and he rose, responding without thought, "Oh, yes, sir - please."

"Come along," James said, capturing Davis' hand, tucking it into his elbow. He led the way out of the kitchen, into the long service hallway. "You're not to be in this hallway without Tess or myself," he said sternly. A door opened into a stairwell that was the mirror image of the one in the club wing. Davis felt a sense of delicious foreboding as they departed the public space and entered the private wing of Tessera.

There was another security check in the stairwell, and James gave Davis' full name to the guard there, before they climbed just one of the long flights of stairs. James hesitated at the top of the stairs, glancing to the left, and then the right. He seemed to decide quickly, and opened the door immediately to the left, which revealed a short hallway, with just five doors along it. James opened the first one, which revealed a dimly lit space that looked to be half office, half workshop. Davis looked about himself curiously, until his attention lit on a long table that had leatherworking tools neatly arrayed on the wall above it.

James escorted him to the end of the room, very near that table, and opened a drawer. Inside lay a line of leather implements, all with a wrap that Davis realized was quite distinctive.

"Perhaps you'd like to choose a tool," James suggested, voice low and intense.

"I couldn't be more delighted, sir," he said, stroking the tools with an intimate touch. After a brief deliberation, he selected a heavy, blunt leather tawse, made with black and blue rows of stitching. The significance of the colors was not lost on Davis, and as he handed it to James, he thought by the smirk on his face that it was not lost on him, either.

James escorted him back out, closing the office door, and then the hall door quietly behind himself. The Top nodded towards the end of the hallway. "If," he said quietly and deliberately, "you should find yourself in need, that door at the end of the hallway is the entrance to Tess' office. She is often there quite late, and if she's not present, then head into the stairwell. Security will take you up to her quarters on the next floor up if you ask - Carl will be there with her. Do you understand me?"

"Absolutely, sir."

"Good. To your left is a little kitchenette, should you need. Your luggage should be here," he said, opening the next door down the hallway. "This is the Ranier room."

Davis wasn't quite sure of the significance. He glanced into the room. "It looks like - yours," he said standing in the open doorway.

"It is, in a way. I designed it." James said, and closed the door. Once the latch and lock clicked over, James turned abruptly to Davis, pinning him up against the heavy wood of the door, and Davis was immediately lost in the powerful, demanding kiss, body conforming to James' as the big man's arm twined around him, pulling him in close.

"How may I please you, sir?" Davis murmured into his ear, once the kiss had run its course, daring to run his hands down James' strong, solid body.

"I think we have some business to take care of, first." The look on James' face could only be described as deep, intense pleasure, and he leaned in to kiss Davis again.

"And what would that be, sir?" Davis asked, feeling a little breathless at James' closeness and the taste of his tongue.

A slow smile crept across James' lips. "It's my  _responsibility_ ," he said, voice deep and thrumming, "to point out to you just how lucky you are that Mistress Tess did not stand you up and take that quirt of hers to you earlier - and not once, but twice."

Davis sighed regretfully. "What can I say? I've never been particularly good at being good."

James' gaze fell upon him. "And what if I told you that you  _will_ be, by the end of the night?"

"Then you're taking on a bigger challenge than you might be ready for," Davis said, his eyes serious.

It was only the crinkle of James' eyes, and the quirk of the corner of the man's mouth that suggested that he might just be in trouble. And even then, he only had a flash of both of those things, before James spun him around, pinning him up against the door, a hand coming around to deftly unto the fastenings of Davis' khakis, letting the fabric fall to the floor.

"Take your shorts down," came the deep rumble in Davis' ear.

He complied with alacrity and without question, baring his ass for James' inspection, turning his cheek against the surface of the door to gaze at James beside him.

James left hand curled up to cradle Davis' jawline, cushioning it from the solid door. "Don't move," came the order. And then Davis felt the tawse land across his backside, closing his eyes at the sensation as a precise dozen blows came down, relighting the fire from earlier. He was reeling with the power of the leather in James' hands. "That, boy, is Tessera's standard. And from this point on, I'm not going to hesitate to apply it."

"Th-thank you, sir," he gasped, feeling the burn on his legs and back, spreading up his spine and ascending.

James turned him around roughly - pressing Davis' bare backside into the gritty, textured surface of the wooden door and claimed another deep kiss, this time with his tongue demanding entrance into Davis' waiting mouth. Davis surrendered to James' invasion and gave voice to his own moans, going boneless against the pressure of James' body against him.

"Good boy," came the words, long moments later. James' hands slid down Davis' back, cupping the heated buttocks, pulling him in close. "Hold on to me." Davis linked his hands around James' neck, using every inch of his strong arms to clutch him tight.

Those huge, heated hands gripped Davis' buttocks firmly, and lifted - and Davis had no choice but to lean into the grip he had around the strong neck and shoulders, and instinctively wrapped his legs around the bigger man, feeling faint with the sensation. It earned a throaty chuckle from the big man, who then bit down on Davis' neck, teeth anything but gentle.

"Oh,  _god -"_ he whimpered, giving himself over to the pleasure of James' tongue on his bruised flesh. "That's so good, just exactly right... "

Soft music swelled in the room, and Davis realized belatedly that James was supporting his entire weight with one hand as he strode forward into the room - the man must have switched on some sort of stereo system, and the strains of Miles Davis bled into Davis' awareness, even as James bit down, over and over again, travelling slowly up Davis' neck. With every touch of his teeth against his skin, Davis let out a moan, until the sounds blended together into one incredulous sound of pleasure and desire.

He was half blind with pleasure when James sat down on the edge of the enormous bed, Davis' legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. The arm supporting his weight didn't move, but James' other hand slid under Davis' shirt briefly, and then began popping the buttons open, one by one, tongue delving deeper into Davis' mouth with each release of the fabric. All Davis could do was hang on and let him do it.

He hadn't noticed when James had yanked the black silk sleeves from beneath the carved leather bracers that the Top was wearing, but the starkness of the black leather against the other man's tanned skin was stunning. James allowed him to balance his weight on the older man's lap, briefly, while he stripped off the silk.

Davis was leaning in, desperate to resume the kisses, the biting that had been interrupted, when James hushed him, a big finger across Davis's lips. Davis' tongue darted out to capture the finger when a quiet chuckle arrested him.

"Shh - hold that thought for a moment, Davis. Look at me."

"Sir," he murmured, desire warring with obedience.

"Safewords," came the demand.

"I don't use them," Davis replied, honestly.

James' glare could have melted steel. "You need them," he said. "I demand them. If you won't select your own, I'll assign you some, and you'll  _use_  them, understood?"

"Yes, sir," he agreed. James probably could have asked him to wash the floor with a toothbrush and he would have said  _yes, sir._  "How about  _yellow_  and  _red?"_

James nodded. "Yellow and red. Good boy, Davis, good boy." There was another one of those dizzying movements, and Davis found himself flat on his back on the silky surface of the sheets - he'd wonder later, when had James pulled back the covers? - with James looming above him, pinning him down with strong hands, using his tongue along the planes of Davis' collarbone, and dipping down to bite sharply at Davis' nipples.

Davis shuddered with desperate pleasure as James licked and sucked along his chest, along the pectorals and the sweep of his lats, and slipping down to swirl his tongue around Davis' hipbones. The attention went no lower, and then suddenly James' blue eyes were driving into his own, hard and demanding.

"There's buttons that need undoing, boy," James said, not even glancing down at his pants.

"Yes, sir,  _thank you,_  sir," he moaned, sliding his hands down to brush a finger into the tight space between leather and skin. He deftly unfastened each button, slithering down along the bed until his eyes were level with James' impressive crotch. With appreciation and care, he slipped his hands into his soft pants, working them down over his hips and thighs, until James' legs stood free and bare. Dizzy with wanting, Davis paused long enough to fold the trousers and set them safely to the side. It wouldn't do to leave creases in those beautiful pants.

"Good boy," came the deep rumble, and Davis wondered just how much more fucking low the man's voice could _go_. "Do you want to touch?"

Davis couldn't look anywhere else but James' magnificent cock. "Yes, please, sir - anything you want - I want to give you anything you desire."

"On your knees, boy." The order was quiet. "Right here on the bed."

He obeyed, kneeling, legs spread wide and ass tucked up, his heart thudding fast and hard in his chest. James sat up abruptly, ducking to lick an intensely long swath between the cleft between Davis's cheeks, straight up the smaller man's thigh, even as his big hands came around to cup Davis' aching balls, and slip almost delicately along his cock, deliberately teasing, not letting Davis thrust.

"Oh - fuck, sir,  _please,"_ he whined.

The tawse came down - the leather actually whistled in the air, and the burn of the blow told him that the man had put some fucking shoulder into the spaced out blows - and Davis counted aloud to six, without thinking, without prompting.

"Language," came James' suggestion.

Davis let his head dangle between heaving shoulders. "Yes, sir," he said. "I'm sorry."

James caressed along the boy's back, fingers working at the muscles there. "There's really only one use for a mouth that filthy," he suggested.

"It would be my absolute pleasure," Davis said, smiling up at him, running a tongue over his lips in anticipation.

James turned, leaning up against the headboard, spreading his legs wide, swinging Davis effortlessly between them.

"Now," he ordered.

Davis didn't hesitate; he took James' heavy cock into his mouth, using his tongue to lick a pattern from the base of his balls to the tip of the slick shaft. He reveled in the sound of James' breathing becoming erratic and harsh, and took him deeper still, opening himself wide to the pressure in his throat.

"That's exactly right," he growled, wrapping his strong fingers in Davis's blonde hair, pulling him in against his hips. "I'm going to bury myself in you, boy. Just like that."

James apparently wasn't the sort of man who laid back and let someone suck his cock, though. Davis felt the man's hands run through his hair, gripping tight, sliding along his neck, massaging and forcing Davis closer now and then, along Davis' shoulders, hands pressing deep into the muscles there.

Davis whimpered and moaned, mouth full of James' thick cock, tongue laving and dancing around the sensitive underside, swirling around the head, and finally he hummed with pleasure as he hit the perfect spot in the back of his throat, feeling like he could swallow the man entirely. He hummed with pleasure and then he felt the restrained buck of James' hips - the back of his mind marvelling at the man's restraint. Most men would have cluched his head tighter and tried to jam their cocks as deep as possible, but not this man. One of the Dom's hands rested lightly on Davis' hair, the other curving around Davis' back.

"May I," came the deep request.

Davis' answer was to pull James' hips more firmly against his mouth, deep-throating his thick cock to the best of his ability. Judging from the speed of James' breath and the rasping cries coming from his mouth, he was doing a fine job of it.

James shuddered, and Davis felt the hot spurt of liquid deep in his throat, increasing the suction and nursing the powerful, extended orgasm from the older man. He left his mouth wrapped around the thick, satisfying cock, until James carefully withdrew, and he submitted fully, resting his head against the surface of the bed, just underneath the other man's cock, knowing that his hair was brushing James' balls.

"So talented, boy," came the welcome words. "I'm of a mind to give you a reward. What do you think?"

Davis licked the come off his lips and smiled, leaning in closer. "If you think I deserve it, sir," he said, his voice low and throaty, hoarse from the pressure of the big cock, "I would be honored."

A slow smile crept over James' face. "Slowly now. Come and give me a kiss, little boy."

Davis closed his eyes, and let James draw him in, tipping his head back deliberately to expose his throat.

"I think I'll give you a spanking now," James whispered quietly, and held Davis tighter as the shudder raced through the sub's body. "I want you to very slowly lay over my lap, my boy. Think about it before you move, now. You're going to pause for a long count of ten, with every motion you make. Understand?"

"Yessir," he said in a quick whisper.

"Good boy.  _Now._ "

In a smooth move his body recalled from years of dance, Davis rose gracefully and placed himself across James' strong legs. He could feel the muscles in James' thighs, ropy and firm, pressing up against his own hard cock as Davis presented his bare bottom for his pleasure.

James' big hand fondled all along the surface of Davis' buttocks, caressing up and down, thumb tracing along the crease between the two cheeks, sliding down to the undercurve and back up. And then he swatted - the smack wasn't hard in the least, but it was audible, tangible, and it was followed rapidly by a volley of the same - and Davis gasped, with the realization that James wasn't stopping, or pausing, or slowing, that if anything the smacks were growing more rapid, peppering the surface of his already abused ass, lighting an intense fire there - but nothing was landing hard.

He felt confused, and then he felt his hips buck forward, recognized the hardness of his own cock, which was driving wetly into James' hard thigh.

"Please sir... I need to come - oh, please, let me come!" he gasped.

"I think naughty boys need spankings," came the lazy and incongruous replies. "I'm not sure if they're allowed to come, are you?"

As Davis begged, James gripped his reddened ass, slipping his fingers into the curve of the crack. He thumbed it open to look, then leaned forward to lick a little along the more flamboyant strap marks and the old singletail mark.

Davis whimpered and squirmed, and James chuckled, reaching into the night stand drawer, and pulled out a rubber groove strap with a woven leather handle on it.

"Think you might like that?" he inquired mildly, showing Davis the slim tool.

"Anything you desire," Davis panted, nearly wild with the need to come, but he resisted.

"What I desire," James said, licking along the shell of Davis' ear this time, is for your hands to go back, and hold yourself open, so I can light you on fire."

Davis' whimper was almost too quiet to be heard, but he complied immediately, his hands stretching his buttocks wide, baring his clenching hole.

"I'll give you an opportunity to be a good boy, though. Do you want a cock ring, little boy? Because I won't leave an inch of this fine ass unmarked if you come before you have permission."

"Oh - yes, yes, please, sir," he said gratefully. He hadn't been at all certain of his ability to hold out much longer, not in the presence of this astounding man with the deep voice. He felt as though he'd lost twenty years on his life and was back in college again, experiencing these things for the first time. "That's very kind of you, sir."

"Don't move your hands," James rumbled. "I want to watch that hole, while I do this. And," he added thoughtfully, "you can help me. Hold this - with your teeth," James ordered, slipping the groove strap between Davis' lips. "Don't bite down."

He fished the big ring out of his drawer - Davis wasn't small by any means, and James competently cradled the heavy, hot cock in his hand as he cinched the buckle of the ring tightly around the base. "Tell me, little boy. Is it tight enough?"

"Please," he begged, enunciating around the groove strap between his teeth, and rolling his shoulders in desperation, "please, sir, a little - a little more."

James cinched the buckle down harder, and pinched at the skin on the boy's balls.

"There?"

"Yes," he hissed, feeling the burn in  _oh_  so right ways. "Thank you, sir, thank you... god..."

"Release the strap," James ordered, and when Davis complied, there was a long moment where there was no motion at all. And then James' hand ghosted down Davis' spine, and before Davis was done shivering, there was a sharp whistle of the strap moving through the air, and then the cleft of his buttocks lit up with an agonizing, delightful fire. Davis cried out.

"Oh, sir - please, I  _need_  - please let me, oh god please -" His begging deviated into wordless moans as James' hand moved again along the space between his cheeks.

"Like that, do you?"

The strap slapped down again before Davis could reply, and before he'd taken in a breath, there were three more strikes of lightning against his straining entrance.

"You color up nicely, brat," came the sultry words. "I  _might_ like that." Davis heard a familiar clink that he couldn't quite place - and then James' chilled fingers trailed along the heated crevice, trailing a piece of ice. His breathless wail was ripped from his mouth, and he thrust helplessly into the sensation.

"Mmmmm. Such nice sound effects." There was that whistle of the passage of the strap through the air, again - it was beginning to be familiar - and that blazing streak of pain that fired from his hungry entrance to his taint, several times, taking away his ability to be still over the big man's lap.

"Y-yellow, sir," he said, flinching in disbelief.  _Twenty-two years in the scene and never one opportunity to use a safe word... until now._  He knew it wasn't a shameful thing, but he was astonished all the same.

James set the strap to the side, within Davis' field of vision. "Define the issue for me, please."

"I'm - if you do that again, sir, I'm going to - I can't keep myself from -" He gulped. "I'm sorry, sir, but - it feels so  _good."_

"Can't keep yourself from  _what_ , boy." His big hand rested on the back of Davis' neck, massaging gently at the taut muscles there.

"You're going to make me come," he said, in a small voice.

James leaned down, his breath hot on Davis' ear. "Isn't that what you wanted, little boy? To come so hard you forget your name?"

"Only if you desire it, sir," he pleaded. "I can't - until you tell me."

"I'll tell you what, Davis," came the whisper. "If you come with that cock ring cinched that tight, I won't punish you. Have I your permission to continue with what I was about?"

He shivered. "You won't be - mad?"

"Davis, honey." The deep voice throbbed, and Davis felt the big hands run along his bare back, along his spine, heating flesh that was feeling chilled with sweat and worry. "I will not punish you if you come with a cock ring on. I will not be mad. Do you understand, honey? Do you want more, or do you want me to let you up from my lap? If you want up, I'm right here, I'll hold you safe. We won't go any further."

Davis felt the words down into his bones, filling a space inside that he hadn't even realized was void. He let out a breath, and suddenly began to cry, giant, intense sobs of release. "Please," was all he could choke out.

James released Davis' hands from his buttocks, and scooped him up in one motion, cradling the smaller man to his chest, kissing his forehead. Davis let himself go limp, trusting James to hold him as he rocked him, murmuring meaningless words of comfort into his ear. With every movement, he felt his cock brush against James' firm stomach, and soon he was shuddering and writhing in anxious, mewling gasps. "Please," he said again, in desperation. "I beg you - I need you to tell me it's all right."

"You're all right, honey," came the immediate response. "You are very all right." The big arms tightened around Davis, and the rocking calmed, the swaying gentled and deepened somehow, until Davis felt like he was suspended in a hammock, moving with a gentle wind. He'd never felt so cared for, so cherished. So  _loved._

"I'm right here, Davis. If you need to, we can go find Carl, or we can find Tess."

"No - !" He clutched at James' strong shoulders, not wanting to let go. "This is what I want. I want - I want this. Just this."

That got a low chuckle out of the big man. "You've got it, honey. You are  _all right._ " James looked at the anxious face of the man in his arms, and gently bent to give him a kiss, very chaste. He shifted a little to lean up against his headboard, cradling Davis to his chest, hand gently stroking the nape of the smaller man's neck.

It was the oddest feeling, to go from 99% of the way to coming, and then suddenly to be held and caressed as though they had all the time in the world.  _Perhaps,_  he thought, in a daze,  _perhaps they did. Perhaps this wouldn't be... the only time they might do this._

"You want this, sir?" Davis asked, knowing he sounded fucking ridiculous, but beyond caring. "You want  _this_ , with me?"

"Yes," came the welcome answer. "I do. This is... captivating, my boy."

He lay very still and listened to the strong, steady beat of James' heart beneath his cheek. "Why?" he said at last.

There was a long pause, enough that tears began to queue, unbidden, in Davis' eyes. "You fit," James answered finally.

He could just lay there and cry onto the broad surface of James' chest. And somehow he knew if he did that, James would do nothing more than thumb the tears away, and keep pressing gentle kisses to his temple, the way he had been for the last few minutes.

"I suppose you'll get tired of this eventually, sir," Davis tried.

"Do you need another spanking?" James inquired, tone mild, not shifting his position at all.

"Almost certainly, sir," he admitted. "But I'm really enjoying... this."

"Then hush your chatty mouth. Understand me? You. Are. Fine. Davis. I've got you right here, honey."

Davis was able to enjoy James' embrace for a good thirty seconds before he had to ask, "Not to be disrespectful, but... are you sure there's nothing I should be  _doing,_  sir?"

James reached back and patted his behind. "All you need to be doing is needing. Is there something more you need? I can always paddle an answer out of you." His deep voice was matter of fact, every day, almost lazy sounding, and Davis knew the man hadn't shifted a single muscle from his relaxed sprawl, and the heavy arms that fenced in Davis' form hadn't moved an iota.

_What I need._  It was almost a foreign concept, from this perspective, but Davis heard the command inherent in James' words and he struggled to formulate a reply. "I need... I need you. Inside me." He licked his lips. "Please, sir?"

"Is that so," James asked mildly. Davis felt the big hand surround his cock, just briefly, not enough to strain the orgasm that was somehow still hovering on the brink, and he didn't bother to restrain the sound of pleasure that escaped his lips. "My my, boy, look at this. That feels like a testament to the truth, if I ever did feel one." The big man was silent for a moment. "You lean over, little boy, and you pull the bottle of lube out of the bedside drawer. You'll open it up, and you'll soak my fingers - carefully, mind you - if that's what you want."

With aching gratitude, Davis reached across James' broad chest and found the bottle of lube just where he'd said it would be. He opened it, carefully, so as not to make a mess, and took James' big hand in his own, coating it liberally with the slick substance, between his fingers and in the center of his palm. "Ready, sir," he said.

"Give me a kiss," James suggested. When Davis reached up, blind with desire, his lips met James' just at the same moment that he felt a thick, steady finger slide slowly into his entrance. He struggled to resist the desire to thrust back, because he knew it would be over  _immediately_  if he did, and he wanted this moment with James to last.

"Tight," James murmured. "Such a brat. You'll feel so good, wrapped around my cock, but we're going to take this slow, you understand me, boy?"

"I'm yours, sir," he whispered. "Any time you want me."

"Show me what that naughty tongue can do, kissing," James suggested, pulling him closer.

Scarcely daring to believe his luck, Davis brought his lips together with James', feeling his hot, hard mouth seeking entrance, and he opened to him completely, letting James take his fill. As his tongue crept into James' domain, he felt another finger press slickly, quickly inside of him, and he moaned, losing control of his mouth momentarily. He felt the big man chuckle, and then the two fingers scissored inside of him, stretching gently, back and forth. Davis calmed his breathing, knowing that the pleasure was better the more one simply let it flow, and feeling every inch of James' thick fingers pressing into him. He wouldn't forget this. He'd let it become part of him, burned into his memory.  _Just this._  It was what he wanted, what he'd wanted - for years.

"So willing," James breathed. "Such beautiful obedience, Davis." James' tongue threatened to overtake Davis' mouth for a moment. Then the bigger man pulled back. "What would you think about taking a little more for me, hmmm?"

"Please," he whined.

A third finger slicked up inside of him, wiggling and teasing as it made its way inside. James had stilled for a moment, waiting to see how Davis reacted. At the arched back and moan, James spread the three fingers inside of the smaller man, stretching the resistant muscle firmly and gently.

"God," he gasped, "that's it - more, please, just like that -"

"You do not have my permission to come, Davis. I'm glad you like this," came the whispered words, and Davis felt a greater pressure as the bigger man's fingers strained to stretch the needy entrance. "And you're going to come when I want you to, not before, do you understand, my boy?"

"Yes, sir," he cried, tossing his head back, "yours, please, all yours - for you, sir, all for you."

"Say my name," James growled.

" _James,"_ he shouted, in delirious pleasure, "oh,  _James."_

A fourth, incredulous, thick finger snuck inside of him, and he whined with frustration, wanting to feel the man's thick cock inside of him, filling him to the hilt. There was no chastisement for his begging offered, instead, he found the older man's blue eyes boring into his own.

"Do you want this, Davis?"

"Yes, I want it, sir," he begged, "I want - I want -"

"Tell me what you want, honey. What do you want me to do," James asked gently, interrupting the begging.

"Fuck me," he gasped, " _please_ , just -"

"I'm not going to fuck you, Davis," James said quietly. "I'm going to turn you onto your back, honey, lying on the bed, all right?" His fingers twisted and rolled inside of Davis' body, promising that this wasn't over. Davis gasped out another fervent plea, and James chuckled. Once the world stopped moving, Davis felt a broad pressure alongside the big fingers holding his entrance open.

"Think about how you ask me for this, honey," James murmured gently. "What do you want me to do."

"Please," he said, with as much restraint as he could manage, "please - fill me up, I need to feel you inside me."

James' fingers retreated, and Davis almost keened aloud at the loss, and then a heavy, blunt pressure replaced the probing fingers, pressing infinitesimally slowly into him, until there was an almost tangible pop as the head of the bigger man's cock breached Davis. At another keening moan rent from Davis' mouth, he looked up to see James' blue eyes piercing into his.

The big cock slid, millimeter by tantalizing millimeter, until James gave a soft grunt, and Davis realized they were belly to belly, the long, thick length of the bigger man seated inside of Davis firmly, taking up tangible residence.

"Oh God," James murmured. "You're so tight, little boy. I'm gonna go so deep in you, Davis," he said, thrusting deeper than Davis had thought possible, and then there was the breathtaking slide as James withdrew slowly, and finally plunged back in, filling him completely.

Davis gave himself up to the slow, tantalizing rhythm of James' sex, back arching, moans ripping from him in response to the deeper thrusts. James move fractionally faster, and faster still, until Davis heard a near moan from the big Top.

"Oh please, sir," he murmured, eyes rolling back in his head.

"Yessss," James hissed. "Now, Davis," he said, and Davis felt the blankness that came with the release of a cock ring that had been tight for too long. "Let me feel you come, boy."

After such a long time of waiting, the command came almost as a surprise, and Davis' head swam with the unbelievable rush of his own orgasm. He cried out, "James!" almost as a supplication, although there was nothing more he could think to wish for. Everything he wanted was right here, in his arms.

James threw back his head and roared, and Davis could do nothing but shiver limply beneath him, actually feeling the walls of the condom pulse inside of him as the big man released, driving deeply and harshly into Davis' tight hole, thrusting with every pulse. He could feel the drip of sweat from James' forehead onto his chest, just before the bigger Top stilled, and captured Davis' mouth with his own, tonguing deep and hard.

A big sigh escaped from the Top. "Beautiful boy," he said, and he cradled Davis' head in one enormous palm.

"Your boy, sir?" he said, not daring to hope.

" _My_  boy," James said, blue eyes looking fiercely into Davis', until the smaller man felt as if they were boring in to his soul. "Davis."

"James," he responded, with equal fervor. "Yours, sir."

"Good," James said, and plundered another kiss.

It was all too soon that James stirred and lifted himself off Davis' willing body, leaving him soaking and chilly on the damp mattress. He made a wordless sound of protest, stretching sore muscles, feeling the abrasions on his back rubbing deliciously against the soft sheets.

"Shhhh," the top said. "Let me change, little boy. I"ll fill you up again, don't you worry your pretty head." There was the familiar sound of a condom slicking off, and hitting a trash can - and then the unbelievable sound of a foil wrapper being opened. Davis' head came up in shock.

"S-sir?" he whispered.

"Hold up your wrists, little boy."

Without even knowing what he was being asked, Davis complied, lifting them to the sky, pressed together at the wrist. He felt gentle tugs at the cuffs he wore, hearing the comforting sounds of trigger snaps, once, then twice, and then he gasped as he felt cool leather encircle his thigh, tightening down comfortingly, with the sound of the snap quickly following. The sensation was seamlessly repeated on the opposite thigh, and as his back began to arch in anticipation, he found he was unable to straighten, a fourpoint hogtie restricting his movement, wrists bound to thighs.

"And hold still," came the deep voice, and Davis felt the man  _lick_ along his used entrance, felt himself flower and strain to please - and then James sunk his thick cock back inside of Davis.

"I want you to sleep, boy. Now."

The command overcame even Davis' compulsion to reply  _yes, sir,_  and he could only think it as he dropped into slumber, more satisfied than he'd ever been in his life.

* * *

**Sunday**

The morning light was filtered through the sheer curtains as Davis woke. The first thing he felt was the aching burn of his tanned backside, and he shifted in sleep to increase the sensation against the sheets. But it wasn't sheets that pressed against him from behind, and he moaned at the feeling of delicious pressure inside him.  _He didn't stay hard - all night?_  he marveled.

"Mmm, tight," James murmured. "Go ahead and flex, Davis. I want to feel it."

Davis aimed to please. His experience with the yogic asana of  _Asvinimudra_ , which involved prolonged contraction and complete relaxation of the anal sphincter - well. He knew it wasn't every day James felt something like  _that._  And there was nothing he wanted more than to please him.  _Yours,_  he thought, in a haze of waking bliss.  _Your boy. Yours._

James moaned in response to the steady, almost pulsing pressure around his cock, and thrust forward, carefully. His cock still moved slickly, and at that slip, Davis felt the bigger man buck wildly deeper, quickly and hard, too. Davis felt a hard, callused hand clasp his cock almost gently, and then squeeze in rhythm with the thrusts, stripping slickly up and down the length of Davis' cock - the length of the strokes made him feel long and aching, even as James' thick cock pulsed and nudged at his welcoming body, driving deeper with every breath that Davis took.

"Yes," he chanted, with each thrust. "Yes... yes... yes."

James was panting hard, thrusting deeply, the slap of his balls against Davis' a welcome sensation.

"That's it. I  _like_  that. Come for me,  _boy,_ right now."

Once again the command caught him unawares, and he felt the powerful orgasm wash through him like a wave, leaving him breathless.

He didn't have a chance to catch that elusive breath, because a growl from James captivated him as it rose in volume and tenor. He felt James' hips slam into him, and again, that pulsing sensation, even with the barrier of the condom in place.  _My god,_ he thought,  _what that wash of come must feel like without..._ It was almost too much to contemplate.

And then Davis' eyes rolled back in his head, a second unbelievable climax overtaking him as James sank his teeth deep into Davis' shoulder.

Davis floated in a miasma of bliss until he heard that deep voice sound in his ear. "I think I'll take you off to the shower and wash you, boy." His chuckle rumbled through Davis' body, making him shiver. "I take care of my possessions."

"Is that what I am?" Davis murmured, feeling the warmth of James' kiss on his cheek.

"Do you want to be?" came the question.

The question seemed almost absurd to Davis, so much so that he didn't answer for a moment. Then he realized James was waiting for a reply. "Of course, sir," he said.

"Then up with you, stand next to the door. Unless you need a spanking? And I mean need, little boy. Not just want."

It was tempting, but... "No, sir," he said, gazing up at James. He relaxed into the sensation of being completely, utterly satisfied. "I - I don't think I need - anything."

"I think you need washing," James said with a smile. "Come along with me, now, Davis." The big man hesitated slightly. "It's not a walk of shame. It's just a shared bath, and we'll go straight into the private section, where the door locks."

"I have no shame at being naked in front of others," Davis said, slowly uncurling from the morass of fluids on their bed. He stretched carefully, assessing his mobility and the degree of his abrasions. Nothing seemed too much out of place.

"There won't be anyone in the hallway at this time of day - and if someone is there? They  _will not see you,_  he said forcefully, almost harshly. "Tess and Stephen understand," came the gentler words, as James waited, body tenser than Davis had seen him, for Davis' reaction.

"Do you - would you prefer no one see me?" He watched James, struggling to understand.

The big man's face softened. "I'd like  _everyone_  to see you, honey. I just want to be sure that  _you_  are comfortable. That's my responsibility, that you not feel embarrassment. Do you understand?"

"I'm not at all embarrassed," he insisted, smiling shyly. "I like - to be put on display. To be enjoyed, for your pleasure."

James regarded him steadily. "I'd like to wash you, honey. Will you come with me down the hallway, so I can wash you?"

"As you wish," he said, holding out his hand for James to take.

"There's my good boy," James said, kissing him gently and taking the offered hand. "Come along now. You might like the shower."

Davis followed obediently, feeling the stretch of every mark on his body, not to mention the unmistakable ache of having been completely, thoroughly fucked, as James led him into the shower. The water was hot, and the spray hard, and the soap that James reached for was scented with something that made Davis feel somehow hungry.

"Is there anything I might do to - please you, sir?" he asked, still feeling shy.

"You stand there patiently," James growled. "I want to see all of these miles of skin in the daylight." He nodded at the clouded glass across the window that lit the shower stall.

Davis felt the sheltering bulk of his body as James leaned closer. "There might be more marks - ahh," he said, tone pleased. "There's one I missed in the light, last night." His tongue licked along another of the singletail marks, making Davis gasp and moan.

"God, that feels  _incredible,"_  he sighed, leaning into each stroke of James's tongue.

James continued laving the marks left from the old whip marks, and then continued on to the marks he'd left himself, between the two straps. He had been slightly off center with one of the lashes from the groove strap, and the mark was perfectly centered between Davis' cheek and crease - and that he spent the most time upon, his tongue lavishing his appreciation.

Incredibly, Davis felt himself twitch and swell, and by the time James was done bestowing his attention on every one of Davis' marks, his cock was fully erect again. "My god," he murmured. "What you do to me."

James laughed in delight, the sound echoing through the chamber. The big man seated himself on the convenient ledge, drawing Davis down in his lap.

"Maybe I should see how this works," James suggested wickedly, wrapping his hand around Davis' cock, somehow exerting the exacting amount of pressure that balanced between painful and ecstatic. Davis couldn't resist the urge to thrust up into that pressure, the sore spots on his skin a compelling counterpoint to the sensation of James' hand on his erection.

"Oh yes," James encouraged. "I like to see that, boy. Do that again, please."

Davis didn't need a second invitation. He performed for James, giving himself to it entirely, showing off his body to best advantage in the morning light. "Do you like what you see, sir?" he asked, snapping his hips into James' stroking fist.

"Oh yes," James told him, biting down on Davis' shoulder. "Can you guess what I want to see, little boy?"

Davis turned his head, twisting and arching his back so that he both remained in James' lap and reached James' lips with his. "Might it involve my tongue, sir?" he asked, breathing the question into James' open mouth.

James kissed him deeply, then pulled back. "I like the taste of your lips, boy. I had a little something else in mind, though. Shall I tell you, Davis?"

"Please, sir," he said, smiling.

James bit firmly along the line of the smaller man's neck. "I want to watch you come, Davis. I want to see your cock while it's shooting, I want to see how far you go, how you arch, listen to you moan, so I know what that looks like. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Davis would have promised to crawl through fire or jump off buildings for this man, he was certain, if he'd been asked in that tone. As it was, it was easy to reply: "I'll do my best, sir."

James chuckled, low and dangerous, and his hand stripped along the length of Davis' cock, gripping it tight and close, just the way Davis liked it. "I know you will, honey. I want to see you come."

It wasn't more than a suggestion, not a demand in any way, but Davis felt it like an order, reverberating inside him, and he ached to respond, to fulfill James' every request, to please him in every way he could. His eyes, watching with such obvious pleasure, the closeness of his strong, broad body, and the quickening breath all served to fire his excitement, and it was an insanely short amount of time before he accelerated his thrusts into James' waiting hand, coming hard against the wall of the shower.

It was dark and quiet for a time after that.

He came to, to the sensation of a soapy washcloth gently smoothing along the planes of his body.

"Let's dry you off," came the deep murmur. Davis felt himself gently manipulated, the softness of a towel sweeping along his torso and limbs, and he ached at the care with which James patted around his flaccid cock, drying the sensitive member, along with his aching balls. He felt his eyes tear up as James gently dried Davis' thoroughly welted bottom.

He was boneless, half unaware, though he realized that James was helping him into a soft set of clothing, leading him back to not the dim room they'd slept in, but to the man's office, where James gently laid him on the couch.

"You are tired, Davis. Drink this, love-"

It was disgusting, whatever it was, too sweet and far to rich, but he was powerless to resist that voice. "Good boy. Now. Lie down. It will please me very much to watch you sleep."

He could do nothing but comply.

* * *

The second time Davis woke that day, he was cradled in warmth, but he could tell immediately it wasn't another human beside him this time. He opened sleepy eyes and peered out from the nest of down and pillows, and saw James, working at his desk. He was looking very intently, almost fiercely, at the paper in front of him. He lay there for some time, just watching the man working, drinking in the sight of his forearms resting on the desk, the pen gripped in one strong hand, his back curved over his task.

Davis closed his eyes, briefly, and opened them again, just to be sure he wasn't dreaming.

"You may fold up those blankets and come here, if you're awake," came the quiet command.

"Yes, sir," he said, emerging reluctantly from the warm covers. He was clean, and dry, and warm, and ached all over, inside and out. He felt spectacularly perfect.

"Right here, to the front of the desk," James told him, after the orders were obeyed.

Davis stood at attention, hands behind his back, watching James with a smile. "Sir."

"There you go," he said with satisfaction. "I believe Jesse will be downstairs in ten minutes, hoping to meet you for brunch. I do have responsibilities here, boy. Go downstairs with your partner, and let me work here, hey?"

"If you like, sir," he said, then hesitated for a moment. "Sir?"

"Yes, Davis?" James inquired gently.

He gazed into James blue eyes, trying not to hope too absurdly for an affirmative answer. "Do you think... well, I'm here for the rest of the week, and, perhaps, if you have a little time..."

"Stop," came the firm command. "Davis. I expect you to find me after you've assured your friend that you're all in one piece - and that you are content. If you find yourself still content after that conversation, you are to come and find me. Immediately. Tess is looking out for Jes- Carl. My apologies. She refers to him as Jesse, and it's difficult to think of him as Carl."

"Yes, sir," he said, basking in the warmth of his promise for time together. He turned to go, but James gave him pause.

"I wouldn't object to a kiss, before you go, boy." He waited as Davis crossed the space between them, and bent elegantly to press their lips together. "There you are. I expect you'll behave before Mistress Tess, if you see her, else I'll double anything she gives you."

"I'll be on my best behavior," he promised, and oddly, he realized he  _meant_  it.

"I expect you will," James said, a smile crossing his face, going deeper into the lines of his weathered face than Davis had seen before. "Go on with you, I've work to do - just tonight and tomorrow, and then we're closed for a few days."

Davis let that comment warm him further as he walked through the hallway back to the Ranier room.  _A few days._  It was the sweetest Christmas present he could have asked for.

* * *

Davis found Carl already in the small dining room for Sunday brunch, looking up at him with surprise. "I guess I don't need to ask how things are going for  _you,"_  he said, with a smirk at Davis' appearance.

Davis felt the heat climbing his neck, and he averted his eyes as he sat down. Carl watched him carefully. "You're not sick, are you?"

"No," said Davis, the smile coming unbidden to his lips. "I feel entirely too good to be sick."

"That could be the endorphins," Carl said doubtfully, taking a bite of salmon. Then he paused, the bite unchewed, and pointed his fork at Davis. "You're in  _love,"_  he accused.

Davis took a scone and tried to look completely unfazed. It didn't work very well. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You are!" Carl insisted. "Holy shit, Davis, what the hell happened last night? Last I heard you and James were going  _dancing,_  and now - look at you. You're practically floating."

"Pot, kettle," Davis retorted, and he watched Carl's own blush with mad glee. He smirked and leaned forward on his elbow. "I'd say your night didn't go quite as well as mine, but - you look better. Tess gave you a good spanking, hmmm?"

"None of your business," Carl snapped. "I was talking about  _you."_

"Well." Davis let the events of last night - and this morning - and this morning  _again -_  and  _again -_  paint his face with delight. Carl's eyes grew steadily wider as he watched Davis' expression.

"Wow," he breathed. "You're completely  _gone._ "

"I really am," he agreed, the excitement overtaking his composure, and he leaned forward to share. "God, Carl, I feel like I'm eighteen again. You remember how I was. Like a kid in a candy store? This is a hundred times better than that. Jesus, it's like this man was  _made_  for me."

"He's - feeling the same way?" Carl asked cautiously, still watching him.

"Seems like." Davis bit into the scone, which was excellent. He wasn't quite ready to say the words  _I'm his boy,_  but he could hear them in his mind, which was enough.

"I want to talk to him," Carl said firmly.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to talk to you," Davis nodded.

"Good. And... yes, I got a spanking. And then some." His voice was sour. "But I know what I'm about, now."

"Yeah?" Davis raised an eyebrow. "Tell me more."

"I hope you don't disapprove," Carl said softly. "I want this, with Finn."

He nodded slowly, watching Carl's intent, focused expression. Davis knew that meant he was anxious. "Sounds like you've thought it through, then? Tess help you with that?"

"Yeah," said Carl. "Mostly. She's a devil." He shook his head. "She mostly made me figure it out, and let me lean on her when I needed, and got out that damn quirt when I dug my feet in."

"She gave you just what you needed," Davis said, nodding approvingly, taking another bite of scone.

"Yes," Carl said softly. "It's why I love her."

Davis nodded, reaching across the table for his hand. "She loves you, too, you know."

"Yes," Carl said, sounding more confident than he had in days. "I know." He gripped Davis' hand tightly, the affection for his old friend showing more than ever in that moment. "I love you, Davis."

"Honey," he said, a smile breaking over his face. "I love you, too. Always. This - this with Finn. You're sure he wants it?"

Carl gave his old friend the length of consideration the question deserved, looking over the issue from the safety of Davis' company. "Yes. That young man knows what he's about, too. He wants it. I'll go carefully."

"You'll need to," he said soberly. "But - yeah. I talked to him yesterday. He's not much of a kid anymore. Got a good head on his shoulders, and thinks about things. I think you're well matched." He smirked, reaching for the butter. "Now we just need to throw the two of you into a room and lock the door for a few days."

"Jesus," Carl moaned, laughing. "James must not have spanked you hard enough, brat." But here was no weight behind the threat.

Davis laughed, free and comfortable. "He did a pretty damn good job of it."

"Maybe I should check," Carl teased, shaking his head.

"Sorry," he couldn't resist saying. "My ass is spoken for."

"You  _are_ a brat. Maybe I should be coaxing you into comparing stripes, instead, so I can check on you despite your stubborn baloney, Davis."

"I don't know," he said casually. "Somehow I think James and I might be spending... more time together. A lot of time."

"How so," Carl asked, amused. Davis didn't respond for a moment, and Carl reached out for his hand again. "What's going on?"

"He's really incredible, honey," he said. "I think I'm going to be coming down here a lot. As often as I can. But..." Davis shrugged, looking faintly unhappy. "Lima's hours away from here. James and I both have critical, professional careers that are time consuming."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to make it work," Carl said encouragingly.

Davis nodded, unconvinced. "And Finn's still in school - that's limited time with them for both of us. And I love you, you still know how to make me feel better, even if we're not partners outside of the businesses."

"Davis," Carl said firmly. "You'll always be my partner. And I will never stop loving you, just the way Tess has never stopped loving me. Sometimes we've got rocky road in front of us, but I'm right here for you - and I'm depending on you to keep me from blasting off into the outer realms of idiocy, like you stopped me from going to Ruth Puckerman's funeral. Got it?

Davis shook his head in amusement. "It's a frightening day when you're depending on  _me_  for rational decision-making, honey. But I'll do my best."

"I think I like it," Carl decided. "And you're smirking, so I know you like it too, you brat."

He tugged Davis to a standing position and put his arms around him. "I'm really happy for you," he said, leaning into the taller man's arms.

"Likewise," Davis agreed. "Merry Christmas, huh?"


End file.
